Crystal Clear
by bruised anatomy
Summary: She does a very Muggle thing with very Muggle consequences.
1. Hermione

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: She does a very Muggle thing with very Muggle consequences.

Warning: Contains adult situations (i.e. drugs, language, sex).

_**Crystal Clear**_

How did I get here?

It's so dark here.

I keep wiping the bugs off, but every time I do even more appear. They're starting to get under my skin; and I can see them crawling under it, moving my flesh in lumps. I try to cut them out, but it doesn't work. It just creates new holes for them to get in.

I don't remember where I am anymore.

I'm so cold.

_**Crystal Clear**_

Every time I go home, it feels like I've lost another part of me. Like I've forgotten who I am or who I was or where I came from. Going home is almost painful sometimes. I don't want to leave my friends, and I feel guilty for preferring them over my family. And every time I go home, there's some sort of news that is currently common knowledge but that I had no idea about. (A bombing, a hurricane, a new cousin.) I always feel so behind when I go home.

I hate how my home life and school life are so separate.

_**Crystal Clear**_

"Well, well, well. Look who's back in town. Little Miss Mione Granger herself. What a surprise!" I turned away from the tomatoes in the produce section of our local grocery and greeted my once friend and neighbor Rosie Marie Gardener.

"Rosie!" I cried out in pleasant surprise.

"My goodness, Mione. Look at how you've grown." She was smiling brightly. She's not much taller than the ten year old I left behind, but she's certainly thinner. Her brown hair is now a soft blonde shade, but I can still see the brown roots coming through.

It's so hard to believe that it's been years since I've even said a word to her, so the hug she gave me was rather unexpected.

"How've you been?" She asked with a large nearly intimidating grin. (Would my teeth look like that if it weren't for that incident with Malfoy?)

"G-Good!" I was still so surprised that I couldn't stop the stutter. "How about you? How is everyone?" I wasn't particularly social even in elementary school so there was no one to really ask about in specific, but it was a polite question to ask.

"Oh, they're good. Everyone's kind of concerned about universities right now, but isn't that the case with everyone?" She laughed. "So where were you thinking about going? Or do you already know? Have you already been accepted?! I bet you have. You always were such a brain."

_**Crystal Clear**_

Rosie and I began to hang out more often than I actually thought we would. It was a pleasant surprise. And it was almost refreshing to be so far away from magic wands and dangerous wizards for a change.

"Hey, Mione. What are you freaking for?"

Rosie had taken on the habit of ignoring common courtesies such as knocking and often welcomed herself into our home without warning.

I sighed and shook my head as if it would relieve the tension in my shoulders. "Sorry. I've just got a lot to study for."

"Why? It's the middle of summer! There's no need to be making that big brain of yours any bigger. Much more, and it won't fit inside your head!"

I wanted to laugh if only because it would be the proper way to respond to something like that if I were someone else. But I'm me, and poor grammar and nonsense are nothing to laugh about. So I made a noncommittal noise followed by a sigh. "I'm sure. It's just that I'm going to be head girl this coming semester, and I want to be prepared for all of my duties."

"What's that? Like class representative or something?"

"It's exactly that. And I need to know all of the school policies that previous representatives have established, which ones still work, which ones need to be done away with, what I can do to make my school a better place, et cetera, and still manage to maintain high marks in class."

"Wow. That sounds like a lot. I'm seriously glad that I never took a liking to politics." She stood awkwardly in my room for a bit longer before she excused herself claiming she had an errand to run, and I bid her farewell.

But she returned about an hour later with pills and a bottle of water. "You should take one of these," she suggested as she handed me a bottle of _Desoxyn_ if the label was anything to go by.

"What's it for?" I asked, curious and a little apprehensive.

"It's for my _emotional instability_." She made quotation marks with her fingers and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not emotionally unstable."

"Well, it's also supposed to help you focus and maybe help you relax a bit or something. I don't know, but it always makes me feel better."

The offer was tempting especially considering that I'd been feeling a bit jittery from being in my room all day, which is usually nice; but I haven't really been out in a week. And I can't really leave because I have so much left to get done.

So I accepted her offer and took one of her little white pills out of her little orange bottle. She left shortly after saying that studying was super boring and that she hoped I had fun while she was gone.

The effects of the pill weren't immediate, but they were strong. And I genuinely appreciated her offer. I was up past dawn reading and taking notes, and I hadn't felt so accomplished in such a short amount of time before.

_**Crystal Clear**_

Rosie stopped by for dinner the following night. And my mother was ecstatic that I had a little friend to play with. (I swear she still thinks I'm five or something.) I had offered to set the table, but she shooed us away. So Rosie and I went up to my room while Mother finished preparing dinner.

I wanted to mention the pills again, both to thank her and perhaps ask her for more, but I was again overcome by that feeling of apprehension. Luckily for me, she asked me about it first. "So how did you like it?"

I feigned confusion at first if only not to seem too eager. "You mean that pill?" I don't like the deception, no matter how small, that I displayed.

She laughed. "Yeah. That. How'd you like it?"

"I liked it well enough, and I was actually curious as to where I could get my own."

She explained to me that it was by prescription only and that her doctor hadn't even wanted to give them to her in the first place, and only did it because it would be like killing two birds with one stone (which I happen to find to be a terrible expression. How morbid.) "But I know a guy who knows a guy who could probably get you some weird generic off brand if you'd really like."

I shook my head. If it was so hard to get a hold of, I probably didn't really need it despite how helpful it was. I'm just glad that she was kind enough to provide me with enough for the rest of the week.

_**Crystal Clear**_

Rosie's bottle was bound to become empty at some point. I had just hoped that it would be a lot farther down the road than it actually was. I suppose the fact that I had been taking twice (then very quickly three times) the recommended dose might have had something to do with it, though.

She said that she had gone to the doctor so that he could fill out her prescription again, but he had claimed that the pills were supposed to last a month not ten days.

He reminded her that it was the middle of summer. And while the pills would help keep her focused with normal summer activities, they weren't necessary considering she didn't have a job or summer courses.

I felt so frustrated when she told me. What was I going to do? They did _so_ much for me. I felt so accomplished while I was taking them that having to go back to my old ways without them caused an actual ache inside of me.

What was I going to do?

_**Crystal Clear**_

Evidently, I was going to sulk. So much so that Rosie actually felt the need to cheer me up by going with me to get an off brand of that amazing little white pill.

"Hey, Hermione! We're going to go visit that guy I was telling you about a while ago."

At first, I wanted to disagree. But the thought of getting some pills of my own caused me to slip on my shoes as opposed to saying 'no.'

We went to the bustling core of London and located a run down apartment complex that looked ready to be condemned. Rosie looked down at the crumpled map she'd been carrying and acknowledged the stars around the destination. Royal Point was not nearly as glamorous as the name implied.

She sighed, and we started off to find building 6 number 114. It wasn't hard to find, but it was a bit concerning. Bags of garbage littered the hallways, and I wondered if it was a health hazard, but I let it go at the thought of our goal.

Rosie knocked on the door; and after a muted curse from inside the apartment, a fairly attractive man opened the door. He looked to be our age and a bit scrawny as opposed to lean, but his handsome face made up for it.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-" Rosie appeared to be trembling a little so I finished for her.

"We're looking for Wayne Hopkins."

"Yeah, and what can I do for you?"

I could tell that he was looking us over and wondering what girls like us were doing in such a slum area.

"Uhm-" Rosie once again started but was unable to continue.

"We heard that you sell _Desoxyn_."

He appeared to be thinking hard. "Yeah," he grumbled a moment later. "I got your Scooby Snacks."

_Is that what they call them?_ I wondered. It sounded like such a silly name for a drug that helped people focus.

He held the door open for us to come in. The apartment looked freshly cleaned and well kept with the exception of stains that had probably been there years before he moved in and leaks in the ceiling that a professional should fix. I felt ashamed for assuming that only low lifes could actually stand to live in such a filthy neighborhood.

As he rummaged through his coat closet, he asked, "Have you ever done this before? Be honest now."

It seemed that Rosie would be no use in conversing with this man as she was too shy to even speak properly.

"Well, we've actually used _Desoxyn_ but not this off brand of yours."

He gave me a weird look. "Listen. I'm gonna be a nice guy here, alright? I want you two to do it here. At least, your first time. I don't want new customers to overdose just 'cause they didn't know how to get worked properly, alright?"

At first, I didn't understand. I mean, what's so hard about swallowing a pill? But when I saw that the bag he held was filled with a cream colored powdery substance, I understood a bit better. How was I supposed to swallow so much powder?

Rosie and I agreed to stay, though she a bit more reluctantly. He sat by the coffee table and motioned for us to join him. He pulled out a slim box from under his couch and removed a box cuter. He took a big pinch of the powder and released it onto the table and separated it for us. He eyed our small piles of powder before taking a bit away from each pile. He smeared the powder around a little before he began to chop it with his box cuter. And he looked at us as if he wanted us to do the same. So we smeared the powder in small area in front of us, and he chopped it for us. All three lines were less than half an inch wide and less and an inch long. He gave the lines a look before, once more, taking a bit away from all of them.

I hadn't noticed the packs of Post-It notes until he reached for one and rolled it up. "Let's start slow, alright?" He nodded his head as if he wanted us to follow his lead so we both began to roll the yellow squares to be a cylinder in similar size to his.

"Alright. This is going to kind of sting at first, but it'll fade pretty quickly, alright?" We nodded, and I watched in fascination as he moved the rolled paper to his right nostril and closed his left nostril with his other hand and swept his head across the coffee table to remove his entire line of powder in one smooth motion.

Rosie and I imitated his actions, and my nose burned all kinds of rotten hell. It itched and burned. It was god awful. Completely wretched. And as the burning receded a few moments later, a stabbing pain behind my eyes once again made me cringe in a different kind of god awful pain. I don't recall the pain leaving, but it did.

Wayne asked how we were doing, and I answered. Then Rosie answered. Then we just kept talking. About anything and everything. And somehow I had come to know Rosie and Wayne better than I ever knew Harry or Ron.

Somehow none of us had managed to move from out original positions on the floor; and about noon the following day, Wayne asked if we'd like another line. I immediately agreed, having already forgotten the pain I had encountered the first time. But my nose still itched, and there was still that same stabbing pain behind my eyes. It was annoying, but I wasn't as awful as the first time. At least, I was a little better prepared.

_**Crystal Clear**_

I woke up naked, curled between my best friend in grade school and a man I'd only known for a day. It took me a moment to remember the night before; and when it finally did come back to me, my entire body must have flushed scarlet.

Dirty, filthy words had left my mouth. I was begging to be spanked and bitten and just in general punished.

Rosie and I had given each other oral at the same time, while he _fucked_ me.

I feel so dirty even thinking of the mere word! How could I have let this happen?! There's not even another word for it. We weren't making love, and there was certainly no sleeping involved until we passed out from exhaustion.

I wanted to leave. I wanted to run from the apartment and never look back, but I couldn't do that to Rosie. I couldn't leave her there with a complete stranger.

Goodness. I'm so embarrassed.

_**Crystal Clear**_

A/N: Just to explain…

I know that Hermione seems rather out of character, but I would like to mention that she has spent the majority of her summers with the Weasleys, so her parents never really got the chance to warn her against the evils of drugs and the necessity of safe sex.

According to Wikia, Wayne Hopkins was a Hufflepuff in Hermione's year. Considering I know nothing else about him and don't remember him from the books, I have decided to do with him what I will.

Rosie Marie Gardener is an OC, but outside of a minor reference in another chapter, she will no longer partake in this story.

_Desoxyn_ is an actual drug. It's meant to treat ADHD and for weight loss as a last resort. From what I've learned, it's the most common prescription drug containing a very low dose of methamphetamine. It is addictive and can cause withdrawal in heavy users who have stopped taking it.


	2. Draco

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: She does a very Muggle thing with very Muggle consequences.

Warning: Contains adult situations (i.e. drugs, language, sex).

_**Crystal Clear**_

I don't care how queer it sounds, nothing is better than a cold room with warm sheets. I rolled over under my luxurious comforter to lie on my chest. But if my mother wouldn't shut the fuck up soon, I would be forced to throw a fit.

How could I even hear her anyway? She only ever talks to people from the family room so they can see the life of luxury that we live. The family room is on the first floor. I'm on the third floor at the complete opposite end of the house.

I slowly sat up, determined to figure out what was wrong.

_Ooh! Floor is cold. Floor is cold! Fuck it. I'm keeping the blanket._

I pulled my blanket back up around my shoulders and stepped on the end of it. I don't care if I look queer. I'm cold, and there's no one here to say anything about it anyway.

So I shuffled down the hall and managed to stay upright on the stairs; and when I got to the stairwell between the second and first floor, I could hear the conversation more clearly.

"Don't you know who I am?!" Mother screeched.

_So shrill and so early in the morning too. _

"I am Narcissa Malfoy! Daughter of Druella Rosier and Cygnus Black! My family is one of your oldest patrons! And I will not stand to be treated like some sort of poor mudblood!"

I couldn't hear the other person so I scooted further down the steps, the blanket keeping my feet silent.

"I'm afraid that there's nothing we can do. The ministry has put all of your funds on hold until the trail is over." The goblin from Gringotts sounded exhausted.

"And how much longer is _that_ supposed to take?" Oh, she was mad, practically growling and whatnot.

"We're not sure, Mrs. Malfoy. It could be as soon as a few days –"

"Days?!" So very unbearably shrill.

"—or as long as a couple years."

"Years?" Seething in anger, probably foaming at the mouth.

And that's when it hit me.

_We have no money._

I closed my eyes and tried not to panic. Father was always prepared. He stored a sizeable fortune hidden away in the basement behind that awful portrait of Granny. He hasn't even told mother about it. And he told me that if he was ever sentenced to Azkaban or died, then the money would appear in the chest behind that truly hideous painting (practically grotesque). Maybe that's why he never told Mother. She probably would have tried to have him killed or something.

I sat down on the step and tapped my fingers against my knee.

_We could sell some old stuff. But we've been selling off stuff for years. Mother refuses to part with anything else._

"I will not accept this type of _treatment_!" Mother screeched.

_We can kill Mother and hope the insurance will last until the end of the trial… Appealing._

"Mrs. Malfoy, the only thing we can suggest is that maybe you get a job, something temporary, just until this whole trial comes to an end."

"_WHAT_?!"

_Looks like I won't be going to France this year._

The thought made me scowl.

_**Crystal Clear**_

Reginald Greengrass was a tall and imposing man with brown hair, a large mole under his left eye, and a distinct mustache that curled at the ends.

_Man's a freak._

I sat across from him a vaguely uncomfortable chair, but I ignored it for the most part.

"And why would you like to work with us?" He asked in a droll manner that made me think he was already bored.

"Architecture is something that I've always been interested in; and considering that I will be graduating in the spring, I would like to have a substantial amount of work experience under my belt for a competitive advantage. And your company has always been in the forefront of architectural advances, so I know that this would be the best place for me learn."

He looked a bit impressed. After a few more questions, a few in-depth answers, and mentioning being friends and housemates with his daughter Daphne, he hired me on the spot.

I started work the following day, and I was thrust into a training seminar with three other people. The speaker continued to press the necessity of worker safety while teaching us several spells that involve expanding the building space on the inside rendering the actual size of the building unimportant.

It was surprisingly interesting; and I, of course, was more successful than the rest. (I shine in all aspects in my life as if I bathed in pixie dust.)

_**Crystal Clear**_

Work was interesting and going well. (I was working with Davy Gudgeon, who is legendary for those who don't know.) But while it was interesting, it was also pretty stressful. A fellow intern cast a spell wrong, and an entire building nearly collapsed in on itself. If it hadn't been for Mr. Gudgeon, a month's worth of work would have been lost. Thankfully, we've only been set back a week; but it's still a bit much.

So with no money to spend (as I need it for books and whatnot come fall) and no abundant free time, I went into my father's private quarters. I sauntered over to his private bathroom and pulled open the bottom drawer by his sink. I sat down, leaning against the wall opposite the drawer. I rifled through the magazines and settled on the one I liked the most. A sultry brunette with long wavy brown hair enticing me to touch her, feel her, fuck her. Of course, it was a magazine; so I couldn't do any of those things outside of caressing glossy paper.

I put the rest of the magazines back and headed towards my room with a bit more enthusiasm. I was feeling anxious, and "jerking off" always helped me relax. I should just keep it in my room, but I'm too terrified of Father finding out that I've gone through his things.

This magazine was different from the others. The others contained naked women dancing on poles, masturbating on beds, or kissing other girls. This magazine, though, was a bit more discreet. The women in this magazine were never fully nude, and they were dressed as Muggle workers like nurses and librarians.

It was the librarians that really got to me. Long sleeve button up shirts with the sleeves rolled to the elbow, buttoned up half way with just a hint of a bra showing. Knee length pencil skirts with long slits up the side. Hair twisted into tight buns with glasses sitting atop a pert nose. A stern look settled on a gorgeous face.

Of course, the centerfold certainly added interest as she held a strong resemblance to one of my classmates with wide brown eyes, wavy brown hair, a splash of freckles across a button nose, and a purse of pouty lips. The centerfold and Hermione Granger could have been sisters. And when ejaculation hit, it was easy to replace the nameless centerfold's face with Granger's.

Ever since third year when she slapped me, I've thought about her. At the time, I was pissed. But I kept thinking about it. Why didn't I slap her back? Why didn't I curse her 'til she was screaming in pain? Why didn't I grab her wrist to stop her? Why didn't I kiss her to mess with her head? It escalated from there.

And after the incident with her teeth, she was smiling almost all the time. And while I had caused the teeth incident, I was excited to realize that my actions had inadvertently made her happy. Her smile was so bright. I felt like I fell in love the first time she smiled at me… Well, in my direction at least. Ugh. Nearly four years later and I _still_ feel like a lovesick puppy.


	3. She Starts

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: She does a very Muggle thing with very Muggle consequences.

Warning: Contains adult situations (i.e. drugs, language, sex).

_**Crystal Clear**_

And by embarrassed, I mean mortified. The trip home was awful and tense. I'm sure I've never felt so awkward before in my life. Evidently Rosie felt the same, because she didn't call or stop by anymore that summer. It was kind of insulting at first but certainly understandable. So I let it go. It's not like I was going out of my way to seek her out either.

But the embarrassment I suffered didn't stop me from going back later that very same week. Wayne's face turned a bright red when he recognized me. I'm sure my face resembled a tomato as well. He opened the door wider and let me inside. His apartment was still as clean as before.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, a bit concerned. Though, I couldn't fathom as to why.

"I was hoping that I would be able to purchase some," I paused and crinkled my nose at the phrase that was about to leave my mouth, "Scooby Snacks."

He gave a small chuckle. "It's meth you're looking for."

"Oh," was the only response I could come up with.

"How much do you want?"

"How much will last a semester?"

He raised a brow at that and appeared to be doing the math in his head. "I'm afraid I don't have that much now, but I can get some in by," he paused to think again, "Tuesday."

I nodded.

"Care to do a line in the mean time?"

I smiled at his offer. "Of course."

_**Crystal Clear**_

I left his apartment as soon as I gained consciousness again after I came down from my "high." I stared up at my ceiling as the words replayed themselves over and over again in my aching, throbbing head.

"_Say my name, you fucking cunt."_

"_Ah!"_

"_Say it!"_

"_Wa-"_

"_Say it!"_

"_Wayne!"_

"_Fuck. You're so tight."_

"_Ah! Harder!"_

"_You're such a slut, such a dirty slut. You like it when I fuck you like this?"_

"_Ah! Y-Yes! Fuck me harder!"_

I shook my head. He explained that it was an affect of the drug during our lengthy and informative talk. In the same way that I couldn't stop talking in the beginning, I would get extremely "horny" towards the end of my high. And then there was the "crash," where I would come down from my high and start to feel ill and depressed if I managed to stay awake after the sex, should I have any. He also warned me to keep up with my oral hygiene or else my teeth would rot which I would suspect to be common sense; but evidently, it wasn't.

I sighed. It was time to start working on my chapter summaries.

_**Crystal Clear**_

It seemed as though my summer had completely passed me by. And I was already meeting Harry and Ron at the train station.

"Harry!" I called with a wave. "Ron!"

I hurried along with my trunk. When I reached them, I threw my arms around their shoulders as best I could; and we shared a short group hug. Harry helped me with my luggage, and he and Ron proceeded to tell me about their summer and their stay with Charlie in Romania. I was just anxious to get inside the train, where I could hopefully blame my tremors on the bumpy ride.

"Goodness, Hermione," Ginny, who had just joined us inside our small compartment on the train, suddenly exclaimed. "Where did you go?"

"What are you going on about?" I asked, confused.

"Your face. It's so thin."

"And what's wrong with that?" I didn't mean to get defensive, but it wasn't her place to comment on my appearance. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to change." I didn't wait for a response and got up to leave.

"I'll join you," Ginny insisted.

So we grabbed our carry-on bags and made our way to the lavatory. I went into the one available stall, while Ginny changed in front of the mirror.

I had to remind myself that it was all in my trunk and that I could get it when I was alone in my room. Like Wayne informed me, it was not appropriate in public.

I pulled my clothes out of my satchel and set them on the lid of the toilet and slipped my loose jeans and t-shirt off. I stepped into my skirt and frowned. It didn't rest at my waist where it used to; instead, it had slipped to my hips. I almost didn't have to unzip it before pulling it up. I didn't think I had lost that much weight this summer. I usually lost about five or so pounds if only because my parents didn't keep on me about my diet nearly as much as Harry and Ron did (perhaps a bit reversed, but I have never met another soul who loves food as much as those two), but I generally gained it back within the first month of Hogwarts, so I didn't worry about it.

Ginny didn't make another comment about my weight despite the concerned look she was giving my legs. I was nearly tempted to change back into my ill-fitting jeans if only to get her to stop staring.

On the way back to the compartment, we passed by Draco and his lackeys. He'd grown over the summer, and his platinum blonde hair had just a hint of gold in it as if he had spent a lot of time in the sun. And I couldn't stop the words that crossed my mind. _"You're such a slut, such a dirty slut. You like it when I fuck you like this?"_

When his eyes caught mine, I couldn't stop the blush that crossed my cheeks, and I hoped to Merlin that he didn't notice.

When Ginny and I got back to our friends, Ron insisted on repeating what kind of food they ate in Romania ("I have never eaten so much cabbage before in my life!") even though he had just finished telling Neville, who would have to hear it all over again.

_**Crystal Clear**_

After listening to Ron talk about mamaliga and impletata for what felt like hours, I was excited to listen to a hat scream out which child belonged to which house. But the welcoming ceremony for the first years felt like it had taken forever. But as soon as it was over, Professor Dumbledore led Blaise Zabini and I to our new rooms. Blaise seemed to be taking all of it in with a bit of pride. (Every single one of his paternal ancestors had been head boy practically since the beginning of Hogwarts.)

The common room was luxurious, but all I could think of was that clear zip lock bag full of powered meth. The thought had me shaking all over again.

I couldn't comprehend a single word of what the professor was saying, and his eyes twinkled (always fucking twinkling) with concern (I'm not sure how that is the specific emotion displayed, though).

Professor Dumbledore left, and Blaise gave me a disgruntled look. "I know you mudbloods are like untrained dogs when it comes to luxury and finesse; but please, for the love of Merlin, do try. I would hate to see the carpet soiled in your excitement."

It took all that I had in me not to strike him with a painful curse. Of course, that along with my desire for meth and my absolute unadulterated fear of what would happen to my Head Girl status kept me from launching myself at him and clawing his face.

Then he had the nerve to practically skip to his room like he was the lead of some goddamn musical.

I glared after him and slammed the door to my new room. My new room wasn't as big as my room back home; but considering the lack of roommates, it was more than enough space. The full sized bed felt like it was made for me, and my strong desire for meth waned the slightest bit as I couldn't resist the childish urge to jump on my brand new bed. I would be overrun with grownup things in the morning. I was determined to enjoy my night and give my childhood one last hoorah before beginning my first official day as Head Girl.


End file.
